Under the Weather
by Beth Arritt
Summary: John has a cold and a serious case of cabin fever.


As usual all characters belong to Cynthia Saunders, Sanders/Moses Productions, NBC and the wonderful cast and crew of Profiler. I'm only borrowing them and promise to put them back unharmed and not make any money off them while they're here. 

**Under the Weather  
**by Beth Arritt  
_Copyright 1997_

* * *

"So you didn't know your mother was sleeping with your boyfriend behind your back?"  
  
*Click*  
  
"--and the Wondermop can be yours through this special TV offer for only $19.99!"  
  
*Click*  
  
"Rock, I swear, I *never* loved Chip! I only slept with him because I thought you were leaving me for Blaze!"  
  
*Click* John Grant muted the TV and threw down the remote in disgust. The characters on the screen went on with their tortured lives, but he didn't have the energy to pick up the remote and put them out of their misery. If he had to be miserable, they might as well join him.  
  
He laid back on the couch with a sigh and looked at the clock for the hundredth time. If he didn't get well soon he was going to go totally nuts and then the VCTF would be chasing him. He could see the headlines now - "Deranged FBI Agent Stalks Infomercial Actors".  
  
He stretched his arm as far as he could to reach the remote on the table. When he finally grabbed it, he clicked through the entire range of channels in silence. How could there be this many channels and yet nothing worth watching? He made a mental note to add to his video collection as soon as he was well in case this ever happened again.  
  
"I hate being sick!" he growled at the TV. The actors didn't notice, they were too engrossed in what appeared to be a rather passionate conversation. He clicked the mute button to see what was so important to them, only to quickly realize he was watching the Spanish channel. He stared at the TV for a few moments, fascinated. At least at this point a new language coming out of the speaker was a novelty.  
  
A knock on the door brought him back to America. He got up slowly and crossed the room to open the door, taking the remote with him.  
  
"Sam?" Definitely one of the last people he expected to see at his door. She was holding a large grocery bag. "What are you doing here?"  
  
She shrugged. "You've been out for two days, and you're never sick. I figured you probably didn't know what kind of supplies sick people need, much less have them in the house." He stared at her in silence. "If I'm wrong, I can go..."  
  
"No!" The sudden outburst startled her. "I'm sorry, I mean, I was just surprised. It's great to have an actual human being to talk to. Come in." Sam walked in and headed for the living room with John following right behind her.  
  
She looked around the room at the mess as she put the grocery bag on the coffee table, then she looked at the TV. "You speak Spanish?" she asked after a moment.   
  
"About three words. But you know if you watch long enough you can get the general idea."   
  
"Oh dear. I can see we have a serious case of cabin fever."  
  
"You ain't kiddin'." He plopped down onto the couch. "So, what does the doctor prescribe?"  
  
"First of all, less mess." She picked up the various containers and cups lying around and carted them off to the kitchen. "Next," she said, as she walked back into the living room, "something good for you." She pulled a small bottle of orange juice out of the grocery bag. "There are more of these in here."  
  
John took the bottle and opened it. "What else do you have in that bag?" he asked, before taking a drink.  
  
"Food. Food that's good for you, and a couple of items from the comfort food group." He raised an eyebrow at her, and she pulled out a box of donuts and a bag of Doritos. "I wouldn't recommend both of these at the same time, though."  
  
"Looks like I'm set."  
  
"Not quite. I also brought these." She pulled out several videos.  
  
He eyed the tapes hungrily. "How did you know?"  
  
"You're talking to the queen of cabin fever. When you're afraid to leave your house, it's a frequent occurrence." She put the movies on the table. "That should hold you for a while."  
  
"I don't know what to say other than thank you."  
  
"Don't mention it. I need to get back to work; are you going to be okay?"  
  
He nodded. "I should be back in a day or two."  
  
"Good. The office seems to be missing your particular brand of sarcasm for some reason."  
  
"Gee, thanks."  
  
"Anytime." She smiled. "I'll see you in a day or so. Call me if you need anything."  
  
"I will. But I think you've taken care of everything."  
  
"Good. Take care of yourself."  
  
"I will, thanks to you."  
  
She smiled and walked out, leaving him on the couch, staring after her with a silly grin.

* * *


End file.
